


Fifth Pentacle of Mars

by themegalosaurus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Sexting, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2019-09-07 02:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16845706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/pseuds/themegalosaurus
Summary: Sam gets a text.





	Fifth Pentacle of Mars

They’re working a case with a pack of ghouls up in Oregon when Sam’s phone buzzes with a picture of a symbol, sketched out in white paint on a concrete floor. He blinks at it for a couple of seconds before he recognises it. Fifth pentacle of Mars. He smiles, despite himself; feels a glow spread over his cheeks. His phone vibrates again. _You gotta admit it’s classy._

 _Sure,_ Sam texts back. And then, fingers tripping despite himself, _I’m totally swooning here._

As soon as he sends it he’s seized all over with hot prickles of regret. Jeez. Like. Way to make it weird. First time he meets an, an interesting man in how many years, and he’s right in there with the inappropriate messaging. Jeez. 

He doesn’t have too long to stew in his own embarrassment before the phone scoots sideways, rattling plastic against the table. _You should see the pictures I send to the guys I_ really _like._

 _Ouch_ , says Sam. 

There’s a longer pause after this one: a real pause, maybe thirty or forty minutes. It’s enough time for Dean to get back from the diner down the street with two bags of takeout, flop down onto the bed nearest the door and eat fries all over it, wiping his fingers on the blanket. 

“Dude,” Sam says. “How can you be such a neat freak at home and such a slob out here?” 

“Not my castle, Sammy,” Dean says. 

Sam rolls his eyes, digs into the bag Dean’s set down beside him. In what he’s choosing to read as an expression of thoughtfulness, his burger contains both lettuce and coleslaw. “Thanks,” he says, lifting it in Dean’s direction. 

“No worries, dude,” says Dean, leaning forward with the remote control in his hand, flipping through channels on the fuzzy TV. 

Sam looks at his phone. Nothing. Huh. It’s fine. Like. He’s not sure what he was expecting. But there’s a little jab of disappointment in his stomach nonetheless. 

He scrapes his chair backward, looks at what Dean’s watching. Wrestling. The burger is okay, a little tough. The coleslaw is good though, and the fries still not quite cold. 

On the table, Sam’s cell buzzes again. 

He puts down the half-eaten burger; wipes his hands on the greasy wrapper, which doesn’t much help. His fingers leave traces on the screen as he unlocks the phone. 

It’s another picture, and if the first one, the pentacle, turned him pink and pleased he can feel himself flush head-to-toe red at what he’s seeing this time around. Um. Um, okay. 

“Y’alright?” says Dean, looking up at him quizzically. Sam wonders if maybe he made some kind of noise, opening the text. He couldn’t swear that he hadn’t. 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding at Dean. He drops his eyes to the screen again, feels himself turning redder. He feels suddenly very conscious of his own skin against his clothes. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He breathes, slow in and out, then gets to his feet, phone clasped what he hopes is inconspicuously in his hand. “I’m just. Uh. I’m just gonna.” 

“Go wild,” says Dean, frowning at him. And yeah. Okay. He doesn’t usually ask Dean’s permission to use the bathroom. 

“I’ll be back,” Sam says, escaping inside. Door locked, he puts his phone on the sink and bends over it to strip out of his shirt.


End file.
